


Take Him to the Stars (Cut to the Feeling)

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Harry Potter, Blow Jobs, Bottom Scorpius Malfoy, Dirty Talk, Gay Scorpius Malfoy, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Rimming, Romance, Top Harry Potter, older man kink, post-sex fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-24 00:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13799850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: Scorpius has a thing for older men. For one older man, in particular.





	Take Him to the Stars (Cut to the Feeling)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for HP Kinkfest 2018. Thank you to A for the SPaG check. All remaining mistakes are my own. Thanks to AJ Horn for an AMAZING prompt. I loved writing this fic, even though it ran away from me. The title and quote at the start are from Carly Rae Jepsen's 'Cut to the Feeling' because apparently Scorpius is all about the upbeat pop. Scorpius is 19, Harry is in his early forties.

_I had a dream, or was it real?_  
_We crossed the line and it was on…_  
_I've been denying how I feel, you've been denying what you want_  
_I want some satisfaction, take me to the stars, just say "oh"_  
_I wanna cut through the clouds, break the ceiling_  
_I wanna dance on the roof, you and me alone_  
_I wanna cut to the feeling_

*

Scorpius always thought of Harry Potter as a bit like a bowl of porridge. Warm, dependable and in need of a little extra pizazz.

There have been a few moments when Scorpius was tempted to revise his opinion. At fifteen, Scorpius fell off his broom playing garden Quidditch with Al. His stomach fluttered wildly when Harry healed his knee. Harry calmed Scorpius with an easy smile and a warm rush of powerful magic, which Scorpius swears he can still feel against his skin whenever Harry’s close. Scorpius was fifteen and horny as fuck, so he put his body’s unexpected response down to the pleasing scent of Harry’s crisp, masculine cologne. With hindsight, Scorpius thinks of that as his _definitely gay_ moment. The _Lumos_ in his brain which turned _perhaps I like men_ into acceptance of the label that always rested heavily on the tip of his tongue, the one he was so scared to fully embrace. 

At a fusty Ministry bash when Scorpius was seventeen, everything Harry did made Scorpius think of sex. Scorpius found himself fascinated by the way Harry sucked some errant chocolate fondant off his thumb. He nearly lost his damn mind over the clean cut of Harry’s expensive robes, his confident stride and his altogether too distracting hands. Because everything made Scorpius think of sex at seventeen, his response to an objectively good-looking man was hardly unusual. Scorpius forced the pesky thoughts to one side and consigned Harry to the box in his brain labelled _bland breakfast items_. Handsome, but not fuckable. A _dad_ , for crying out loud.

Scorpius is so used to thinking of Harry as sexless, it comes as something of a surprise when somewhere between the ages of nineteen and twenty, he starts noticing Harry. Really _noticing_ him. The curve of his jaw, rough with dark stubble. The athletic, wiry lines of his body underneath thin wool jumpers and fitted cotton t-shirts. The curve and flex of his arms, the warmth of his smile and the captivating green of his eyes. Even the way Harry holds his coffee on a lazy Sunday morning with his shirt unbuttoned, lounging against the kitchen counter in his casual tracksuit bottoms is enough to get Scorpius squirming in his seat. Harry's casual breakfast attire makes Scorpius think about pressing a kiss to his cheek and running his fingers along the hard lines of Harry’s chest through the dark hair, down, down, _down_. Scorpius could almost kick himself for being so obtuse because Harry is comfortably the most attractive person Scorpius knows. He finds himself fixated by the way Harry’s hair curls at the nape of his neck, the flecks of grey at the temples and the sleep-warm softness to Harry’s morning smile. A friendly wink from across the kitchen as Harry reads his paper makes Scorpius want to slide to his knees and pull down Harry’s trousers to bring him to a dirty, filthy-hot climax right there and then.

“Do you fancy my dad?” Albus has never been good at speaking quietly and Scorpius has to elbow him in the side with an outraged splutter.

“Don’t be ludicrous.”

“You look at him a lot.” Al watches Harry as he folds his paper, whistling and wiping down the kitchen counter. “You’ve always liked older blokes.”

“Have I?” Scorpius stares at Albus.

Al nods and crunches on his toast. “Yep. Remember when you had that thing for Professor Montgomery? He was at least a hundred and fifty.”

“He was not,” Scorpius says, scandalised.

“About my dad.” Albus wipes his buttery hands on his jeans, which is disgusting. “Do you think I care?”

Scorpius is torn between denying the outlandish accusation and curiosity about Al’s position on the whole Scorpius thinks Harry is fit as fuck debacle. “Don’t you?”

Albus grins at Scorpius. “Do you reckon it would piss James off?” 

Scorpius pulls a face. “Definitely. James thinks I’m a twat.”

“Then I approve.” Albus gives Scorpius a light punch on the shoulder. “Hurt him and I’ll kill you and all that bollocks.” He pulls back and glances at his dad, keeping his voice low. “For what it’s worth I don’t think he really sees people, though. No one that stuck, anyway.”

Scorpius sits back in his seat, trying not to stare at the way Harry’s arse looks in his low-slung trousers. He never thought watching a man wipe crumbs off a faux-granite surface could be so painfully erotic. “Why?”

“No idea. He doesn’t talk about stuff like that with me.” Albus shrugs. “Just thought you should know.”

Harry sends the damp rag into the sink and slings a tea-towel over his shoulder. Scorpius shifts in his seat, wondering how Harry can wear a dish cloth and still look better than a _Wizards Wands_ model. “What are you two whispering about?”

“Someone Scorpius fancies.” Albus gives Scorpius a wink. “I’m telling him to go for it.”

“Is she anyone I know?” 

“It’s a he, dad.” Albus rolls his eyes. “You shouldn’t just assume.”

“Of course not.” Harry gives Scorpius a sheepish smile, his eyes flicking briefly over Scorpius and a look of surprise passing over his features before it disappears altogether. “Is _he_ anyone I know.”

“No.” Scorpius jabs Albus in the side with his finger. He’s going to kill Al. “Definitely not.”

“Make sure he treats you well,” Harry says. He clears his throat and points his finger at them both. “And be safe. Both of you.”

“ _Dad_ ,” Albus groans. 

Scorpius can’t manage much more than a stifled groan which he turns into a cough. The thought of being safe with Harry – of Harry being safe with _him_ – is a lot of information for his brain to process so early in the morning. It makes him think of getting naked and sweaty, of Harry stretched out on the bed and stroking his cock as he gives Scorpius that devastating, lazy smile of his. Scorpius wonders how Harry’s skin would taste against his tongue when he’s hot and perspiring. He wonders if Harry would know what to do better than the people Scorpius has been with so far who didn't know Scorpius’ arse from his elbow. He bets Harry would know all kinds of tricks. The thought sends a pleasant shiver down Scorpius’ spine.

No, Scorpius definitely doesn’t think of Harry as porridge anymore. 

The real problem is that now Scorpius can’t stop thinking about Harry at all.

*

After a shit night to beat all the other shit nights he's been having lately, Scorpius decides to pay Albus an impromptu call for some much-needed advice. He stumbles through the Floo and curses as he crashes into a vase of daffodils on the hearth.

“Bloody arsing Hippogriff’s bollocks.” Scorpius casts a quick _Lumos_ and works on getting the daffodils back into the vase, clearing the mess on the carpet with magic.

“Did you hear something?” An unfamiliar male voice filters through into the living room from the kitchen. It has an irritating nasal quality that sends the hair on the back of Scorpius’ neck prickling.

“It might be Albus, although he’s supposed to be staying with Ginny tonight.” Harry calls Al’s name and waits for a response. Instead of announcing his presence, a peculiar curiosity renders Scorpius silent. He can just disappear back through the Floo if Albus isn’t home. In about five minutes he’ll do just that. Scorpius stands and moves quietly through the house until he has a reasonable view of the kitchen.

“Where were we?” The man with Harry is slim and attractive. Blond, Scorpius notices with a flicker of interest. He’s well-dressed in smart Muggle attire, but he looks the wrong sort of flashy. The kind of man who would probably make a habit of checking the time, just so people would notice his Rolex watch. Scorpius is quite certain he’s not good enough for Harry.

“Impatient.” Harry gives the man a look and Scorpius swallows, his hands suddenly clammy. Harry looks positively feral. His eyes are dark and his smile lazy, his cheeks flushed lightly with arousal. He looks dishevelled, with his shirt unbuttoned almost to the navel. It reveals Harry’s toned torso and the wiry black hair on his chest. As he moves towards the man, Scorpius can make out the tantalising bulge in Harry’s jeans not to mention the insolent curve of his backside and the mouth-watering lines of his legs and thighs. Magic almost radiates from him, powerful, warm. It tastes faintly of chocolate on Scorpius’ tongue. It’s dizzying. It’s _brilliant_.

“You’ve been teasing me all night. Of course I’m impatient.” The man sounds breathless, his words catching in his throat as Harry slides a hand to cup the back of his neck. Scorpius doesn’t know who the fuck this idiot is, but he’s beginning to dislike him intensely. 

Harry pulls the man to him and starts to kiss him with purpose. It’s a hungry, urgent kiss and Scorpius wonders what that might feel like. He wonders what _Harry_ might feel like. The man groans into Harry’s mouth, pushing him away just enough to give him a saccharine smile. “I knew you’d be like this.”

Harry takes a breath, his shoulders tightening as he keeps his head lowered. “Like what, exactly?”

“Like _Harry Potter_. I’ve always had a bit of a hero fetish.” The man laughs, oblivious to the dismissive sound Harry makes in the back of his throat. Although Scorpius can’t see Harry’s face, he knows him well enough to pick up on the tension in his body and fury curls within Scorpius’ belly. In a moment of reckless confidence, he pushes open the kitchen door and strolls in. 

“Who the bloody hell are you?” The man pushes himself off the table and glares at Scorpius, folding his arms. “We’re busy. Go away.”

Scorpius feigns a look of surprise and clears his throat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—” a lie, obviously, “—but I need to see Albus. It’s urgent.” Scorpius hopes Al will forgive him this once. Really, he should thank Scorpius. He could have ended up with a City banker as a father-in-law if Scorpius hadn’t made his presence known when he did.

“Come back tomorrow,” the man snaps.

“Scorpius is a friend of mine, Gerard.” Harry buttons up his shirt, his lips twitching as he studies Scorpius. “Don’t be rude.”

 _Gerard_. Scorpius has never heard such an awful name in his life and he’s heard some fairly dreadful names, his own and his father’s included. Scorpius meets Harry’s gaze which has shifted from predatory to warm as it lands on Scorpius. It sends a spike of jealousy through Scorpius, because he wants Harry to give him the kind of look he gave Gerard a moment ago. Scorpius bites back a murmur of annoyance, glad he at least wore his going out clothes to disturb Harry’s not-quite-shag. If there’s one thing Scorpius is confident about, it’s that he looks better than the insipid pillock currently giving Scorpius a death stare. Scorpius is tempted to curl his lip like his father and make a scathing comment about _new money_ , but he’s not sure Harry would appreciate that. Instead he brushes the lapel of his tailor-made blazer, knowing Gerard is taking in every inch of Scorpius and (hopefully) finding himself lacking.

“How old is he?” Gerard gives Harry a disgruntled look.

“Nineteen,” Harry says.

“Old enough,” Scorpius responds at the same time. It makes Harry’s eyes widen, but Scorpius keeps his focus on the pleasing droop in Gerald’s smile and the flash of anger in his eyes. 

“Albus isn’t here tonight. He’s at his mother’s,” Gerard says, his voice clipped. It makes Scorpius irrationally angry to hear Gerard talk about Albus – and Ginny too for that matter – as if he knows either of them. Scorpius might only be nineteen, but he can recognise a one-night stand when he sees it.

“Oh.” Scorpius meets Harry’s gaze and fights back a smile when Harry rolls his eyes. Harry thinks Gerard’s an idiot too, then. Good. Scorpius looks as mournful as he can which isn’t that difficult considering the night he’s had. “I’ve just been dumped. By my boyfriend,” he adds for good measure. It gets Gerard’s hackles up, just as Scorpius hoped it might.

“Shouldn’t you be telling Albus this?” Gerard’s lips press in a thin line and his scowl deepens.

“Ginny won’t want to be disturbed at this hour. Not with a new baby in the house.” Harry extends his hand to Gerard. “I think we should call it a night.”

Gerard eyes Harry’s hand and then shakes it, his expression furious. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to make another evening anytime soon if we have to cut this short.”

“Liar,” Scorpius mutters under his breath. Harry flicks him a look and arches an eyebrow at Scorpius before turning back to Gerard.

“Probably for the best. I imagine I’ll be rather busy too.”

Gerard’s eyes narrow. “You’re on sabbatical from the Ministry.”

“Yes, but I’m _Harry Potter_.” Harry keeps his voice level, but cool. “There’s always some evil afoot when you’re a hero.”

Scorpius nearly chokes swallowing back a laugh and with an irritated cluck of his tongue, Gerard pushes past Scorpius and the Floo _whooshes_. Harry sighs, raking a hand through his hair and giving Scorpius a grateful look.

“Good timing. Fancy a cup of tea?”

Scorpius would prefer booze if he’s honest, but at the minute he’d take pretty much anything for another half an hour in Harry’s company. “Please.”

Harry busies himself making tea, which is more impressive than it has any right to be with casual displays of wandless, non-verbal magic. When they’re settled with two piping-hot mugs of tea and a plate of chocolate digestives, Harry sits back in his seat and gives Scorpius a shrewd look.

“Why are you really here?”

“Oh.” Scorpius shrugs. “I was telling the truth. I did get dumped.” He puts a tiny bottle on the table and resizes it with a flick of his wand and a murmured spell. “I wanted to see if Al would make a dent in this Ogden’s with me. I’m in the mood for drowning my sorrows.”

“You and me both.” Harry grabs a couple of glasses, handing one to Scorpius. “I’m probably a poor substitute but—”

“No.” Scorpius cuts Harry off because _no_ he’s not a poor substitute. Not even close. He gives Harry a small smile, his first genuine smile of the evening. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share my Ogden’s with,” he says, boldly. 

“Well, then.” Harry pours them both a generous slug and tips his glass in Scorpius’ direction, his expression amused. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Scorpius has a sip of his drink and the alcohol burns pleasantly down his throat. He returns to his tea and bites into one of the biscuits, letting out a hum of contentment at the delicious taste. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to have sex.”

Harry nearly spits out his tea, his cheeks blooming pink. “It’s really fine. Thanks for the concern, though.”

Scorpius decides not to inform Harry he's often concerned about the well-being of his penis, these days. “I didn’t like him, much.” Scorpius stares into his tea. It’s milky with one sugar, just how Scorpius likes it. Harry didn’t even need to ask. 

“For what it’s worth, neither did I.” Harry laughs. “Tell me about this boyfriend of yours.”

“Ex-boyfriend. I wasn’t with him for long.” Scorpius glances at Harry and then looks away again because it’s embarrassing. The very last person he wants to share the details of his breakup with is Harry.

“Still.” Harry clears his throat. “Can I ask why it ended?”

 _Please don’t_ , Scorpius wants to say. instead, he chooses his words carefully. “He thinks I’m interested in someone else.” What David had actually said was _do you know you’ve mentioned Harry Potter twenty-seven times this evening?_ It had been easy enough to brush to one side, before Scorpius called David _Harry_ just as David was getting into giving Scorpius an enthusiastic but mediocre blow job. 

“Oh.” Harry sounds surprised. “Are you?”

Scorpius looks up and a hot flush of arousal makes his body warm. He holds Harry’s gaze and nods. “Yes. I don’t think it’s reciprocated, though. I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, I don’t have this other person either and I don’t know how I’m going to get anyone else until I get over this _thing_.” Scorpius glares at his tea. “I bet it all sounds stupid to you.” 

“Not particularly.” Harry sounds like he’s thinking. “Perhaps it would help to tell this other person how you feel? At least that way you can move on one way or another, instead of always wondering.”

“I don’t think so.” Scorpius shakes his head. “It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?” Harry rubs his jaw, reaching for the Ogden’s. He looks tired, his eyes shadowed. A tight, protective ball in Scorpius’ chest expands as he watches Harry.

“It’s one disaster after another. I can’t even find someone to fuck me the way I want to be fucked.” The words spill from Scorpius before he can think too carefully about them. He doesn’t miss the way Harry’s gaze flickers over Scorpius before he returns to his drink.

“You’re young and attractive.” Harry’s voice is a bit gruffer than before. “I can’t imagine you’re short of options.”

“Not short of options, just short of the right ones.” 

“There are plenty of bars. Clubs. If that’s what you’re looking for.” Harry’s expression is calm and placid, not at all how Scorpius wants him to look.

“That’s not what I’m looking for, though. Not just that. I like having someone properly in my life.” Emboldened by the whisky, Scorpius licks his lips and leans forward, lowering his voice. “Aren’t you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?” Harry’s tone is carefully neutral.

“How I want to be fucked,” Scorpius says. 

“No.” Harry shakes his head, his hand tightening around his glass. “It’s none of my business and I don’t think it’s appropriate.”

“Why?” Scorpius presses on, his heart nearly beating wildly and his throat dry. “Because of father?”

Harry raises his eyebrows at Scorpius. “Draco? No, it’s nothing to do with him.” He lets out a huff of laughter. “Although I imagine he wouldn’t be too thrilled.”

“Funny.” Scorpius drums his fingers on the table and watches Harry closely. “I thought maybe you were something, once.”

Harry shakes his head again, his gaze steady. “You thought wrong.”

Relief rushes through Scorpius. He had been so sure from cryptic discussions when Scorpius came out that there was someone male in his father’s past. He’s relieved to know the someone wasn’t Harry. “Because of Albus, then?”

Harry shrugs. “In part. You’re the same age as my son, and I don’t think he would be too happy if we shared details of our sex lives with one another.”

“I honestly don’t think he’d care.” Scorpius rolls his eyes. “He’s got his own love life to worry about. Those witches he keeps going out with are running circles around him.” Scorpius works up every last bit of his courage. “Age differences don’t matter much when it comes to two wizards. I know plenty of people with years between them.”

“Over two decades?” Harry doesn’t look away, his gaze intense.

“More than three in some cases. I’ve always wanted that.”

“A vast age difference?” Harry looks confused. “ _Why_?”

“I like older men.” Scorpius tries to think how best to explain it. “I like how they look.” He gestures to Harry. “They look like _men_ , not boys. I like it when dark hair has grey bits in it, I find it attractive. So many people my age are still trying to decide what they want from life. I’ve known what I wanted for years. I feel out of place with people my own age all the time – you know Al’s one of the only people I got along with at Hogwarts. Perhaps it’s because father made me have stuffy dinners or because he taught me a certain way of doing things that’s a bit old-fashioned, but I don’t find anyone I meet half as attractive as—” Scorpius takes a shaky breath “—someone like you.”

“I see.” Harry clears his throat, suddenly fascinated by his glass of whisky. 

Scorpius decides to plough on, his words flowing from him as he tries to articulate his feelings. “I want someone who knows their place in the world. Someone with a bit of experience.” His voice falters. “Someone who knows what they’re doing enough to make it feel better.”

Harry looks up, eyes narrowing and his expression sharp. “People have hurt you?”

Scorpius is sure his cheeks must be bright red, because he’s not told anyone this. Not ever. He pretends sex is brilliant, rather than the messy, awkward, often painful experience he’s found it to be. He can hardly bring himself to say it out loud, without everything getting garbled. “They didn’t mean to. They just haven’t really known what they’re doing and neither have I.”

Harry rubs his forehead before sitting back, pushing the whisky away from him. “Perhaps you’re trying to force something that isn’t right for you. You might just prefer a different position.”

Scorpius swallows, not wanting to expand too much on his hungry need to be filled and the way his fantasies all revolve very much around being on the receiving end of a thorough fucking. “I don’t think so. I really don’t.”

Harry looks away, his brow furrowed. When he turns back to Scorpius, he looks more relaxed and a little inquisitive. “What makes you think these older men have so much experience? It’s quite possible they might be no more experienced than you.”

“I know, but it’s how it works up here.” Scorpius taps his finger to his temple. “When I think about it.”

“Oh.” Harry studies Scorpius. “You think that an older man is automatically going to want to top, just because you’re younger?”

Scorpius snorts. “I’m not an idiot, Harry. I know that’s not how it works. I just know that the older men I think about when I’m by myself all want to top.” Scorpius ducks his head so Harry won’t see the heat in his cheeks. When he looks up, Harry is watching him closely. “I think about you, sometimes.”

Harry holds Scorpius’ gaze and seems to be fighting a battle within himself. “You think about whether I top?”

Desire pulses through Scorpius at the low cadence of Harry’s voice and the intimate nature of their conversation. He crosses his legs carefully and doesn’t look away from Harry. “I didn’t know for certain. I hoped.”

Harry nods, but he doesn’t make any move to elaborate on his preferences. “Did you consider these older men of yours might still be trying to find their place in the world themselves?”

“Of course.” Scorpius drinks in Harry. He’s always so together, so strong. So capable of handling life’s battles. Scorpius is well aware there’s a good chance much of the Harry he knows is just an unflappable façade, but even that thought intrigues and excites him. He doesn’t want Harry just because he’s good at pretending he’s got everything together. He doesn’t want him because he’s Harry Potter. He wants him because he’s _Harry_ and Scorpius has been half in love with him for longer than he’s been prepared to admit to himself. “They don’t have to know their place in the world, but I like that they’ve probably experienced a lot trying to find it.”

Harry laughs, muttering a curse under his breath. “Christ, Scorpius. I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Why not?” Scorpius shifts from his chair. He moves to Harry, urging him around in his seat. He sinks to his knees between Harry’s spread legs perfectly conscious of the fact his hands are shaking as he puts them on Harry’s thighs all boldness and bravado. “You’re not going to be taking my virginity if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried about that in the slightest.” Harry catches Scorpius’ hand as he slides it higher on Harry’s thigh. “Stop.”

“Okay.” Scorpius swallows, not moving his hand any higher. “Why do I have to?”

“Because.” Harry brushes Scorpius’ hair from his face. “I have people to think about other than you, and me.”

“Albus knows,” Scorpius offers. “He knows I like you. He made me promise not to break your heart.”

“That’s…” Harry trails off and he closes his eyes briefly. “That’s very confident of you.”

Another pulse of arousal travels through Scorpius’ body as he thinks of the look in Harry’s eyes when he called Gerard impatient. He wants Harry to look at him like that. Wants to feel one of those urgent, heated kisses. 

“I want you to show me,” Scorpius says. His voice wavers and he squeezes his hand on Harry’s thigh. “Show me how it can be. I know you’d treat me well.”

“You don’t know anything about me, not really.” Harry opens his eyes and he stands, moving away from Scorpius. “Get up, Scorpius.”

Scorpius stands, his legs slightly shaky. He puts his hands in his pockets, uncertain. Harry’s shoulders are tense, just like they were with Gerard. Scorpius didn’t want to make Harry look like that. He wants to make him look _happy_. All the time. Honestly, Scorpius is such a sap. His father would be horrified. 

“I just want someone kind,” Scorpius says. “Someone I can go to bed with and then make scrambled eggs with in the morning.”

“You think that’s me?” Harry turns and folds his arms across his chest, his posture very clearly saying _don’t come any closer_. “I’m not sure why you would ever think taking advantage of a half-pissed boy I’ve known for years to satisfy my own desires – a boy the same age as my youngest son – is _kind_.”

“It is if he’s making a dickhead out of himself because he wants you so much. You’re not taking advantage of me, either. Don’t say that.” Scorpius swallows around the lump in his throat. It doesn’t escape his notice that Harry isn’t saying he doesn’t find Scorpius attractive. To the contrary, Harry’s eyes linger on Scorpius’ lips and he looks rumpled and uncertain. 

Harry’s breathtakingly handsome and Scorpius wants to strip him bare – wants to taste the beat of his heart and capture his moans of pleasure on his tongue. Scorpius has always been confident with sex, as awkward and uncomfortable as it’s been for him so far. He’s fond of the chase, fond of using his looks and money to make someone fall over themselves for him. With Harry, it’s different. There’s a strange energy between them and it makes a hot, submissive desire slide through Scorpius until it pulls the breath from his lungs. He wants to _please_. He wants to see Harry smile and laugh. Wants to see Harry exposed and turned on. 

“You think I’d be slow and soft with you?” Harry shakes his head with a sigh. “You don’t know me. Not any of it.”

“I know what I saw.” Scorpius edges close and puts a tentative hand on Harry’s arm. “With that idiot from before. I want that. I’m not some blushing virgin, I don’t need you to treat me like I’m a piece of mother’s expensive china. I just want you to fuck me and then let me stay for breakfast afterwards.”

“Scorpius.” Harry’s voice cracks but his arms unfold and he puts his hand on Scorpius’ side. He takes a breath and releases it in a jagged exhale. “You’re…impossible.”

“In a good way?” Scorpius gives Harry a grin.

“In an _impossible_ way.” Harry meets Scorpius’ smile with one of his own and the tension in the air around them dissipates. “You know how attractive you are. It’s a bit much getting on your knees for an old man like me. I’m not used to it.”

“Liar.” Scorpius rolls his eyes. He’s sure from what he saw earlier that Harry’s had plenty of pretty young things on his knees for him. He’s also fairly confident that none of them stayed for breakfast. “Do you want me to top, is that it? Because I can, you know. I’ve been told I’m not bad at it.”

Harry laughs and it’s filthy and low. He doesn’t answer at first, simply shaking his head as he looks at Scorpius. “No, I don’t want that.”

“Oh.” Scorpius presses closer to reduce the space between them. “I knew you wouldn’t.”

“Hmm.” Harry makes a none committal sound. He brushes his thumb to Scorpius’ cheek. “You have the whole world left to explore. I won’t clip your wings.”

Scorpius shakes his head. “You’re so stupid.” His laughter bubbles within him and spills from his lips. “You taught me how to fly in the first place. Don’t you remember?”

Harry nods, his expression conflicted. It’s true, in a way. When Scorpius kept falling off his broom, Harry helped him to learn how to balance properly until he could make a half-decent Quidditch opponent, even if Al would always catch the Snitch. “You have so much left to see and I don’t want anything – or anyone – keeping you here.”

“Then you should show me. All of it.” Scorpius shivers as Harry’s strong hand moves down his spine. He arches into the touch, his breath quickening. Really, Harry’s talking like he's ancient but he's still so young in lots of ways. He's also _together_. He’s confident and funny, with his house and his Ministry job and a restless energy which keeps him constantly moving. He’s seen things. He’s seen so much of the world, Scorpius wants Harry to show him every last bit of it. He knows Harry travelled after the war. He wants Harry to show him New York, to feel the pulse of the city beneath his feet. He wants Harry to take him to Paris where Scorpius can show off because he’s been speaking French for as long as he’s been speaking English. He wants Harry to show him what the sunset looks like from a beach in the Maldives, and to suck salt-water from Harry’s skin after swimming in the Med. “I don’t care if you know your place in the world or not. I just want to see it how you do. I want you to show me what it looks like through your eyes.”

Harry’s eyes shutter closed. “What else?”

Scorpius presses against Harry’s body, feeling the half-hard swell of his cock and the taut, hot lines of his skin through his thin shirt. “I want you to show me what it’s like to be fucked by someone who knows what they’re doing. Then you can teach me how to make coffee without using my wand.”

Harry opens his eyes, laughing. “You want to learn wandless magic?”

“For the important things. Like morning coffee.” Scorpius slides his hand to the back of Harry’s neck, toying with his hair which is soft and thick beneath his fingers. He plucks Harry’s glasses from his face and places them carefully on the kitchen counter. “I can teach you things too.”

“Is that so?” Harry’s eyebrows rise. He sounds amused, and fond. It makes Scorpius warm to the tips of his toes.

“I bet you don’t know how to turn someone’s hair green. There’s a spell for that. All the Slytherins know it.”

Harry whispers in Scorpius’ ear and magic washes through him, his body jerking closer to Harry almost involuntarily. God, Harry’s magic feels so _good_. So right. “There.”

“My hair’s green, isn’t it?” Scorpius knows his voice is rough and jagged. 

“A bit.” Harry murmurs another spell and magic washes through Scorpius again. “All better.”

“I’ll teach you a spell to play Muggle music in a wizarding house.” Scorpius is rapidly running out of options, largely because Harry’s proximity is making his brain turn to mush. “Do you know how to do that?”

“No,” Harry says, easily.

“You’re lying.” Scorpius pulls back to glare at Harry. “Aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” Harry grins. 

Scorpius looks at Harry’s wide, bright smile and he wants to kiss it so badly. His need coils like a spring inside him, desperate to be released. “I can teach you how I like to be kissed. You don’t know that.”

“No,” Harry agrees. His voice is warm and quiet. “Although I think I can guess.” 

Harry slides a hand into Scorpius’ hair and closes the distance between them. They’re almost exactly the same height and it makes everything align perfectly. Scorpius opens his mouth to Harry and the light, exploratory kiss quickly takes on a frantic urgency. Harry manoeuvres Scorpius so he’s the one pressed against the kitchen counter, twisting a hand in his hair and deepening the kiss. Harry’s kisses are so raw and unexpected, even though Scorpius feels like he should have anticipated fire and passion. _Porridge_. Christ, Harry’s as far from bland as it’s possible to get. He brings every nerve in Scorpius’ body to life, the confident stroke of his fingers undoing the single button on Scorpius’ blazer making him groan into Harry’s mouth. His hands. His _hands_. They’re simultaneously everywhere and yet know exactly where to go. Harry pushes Scorpius’ blazer off his shoulders and untucks his shirt, seeking out flesh to press his fingertips against. Harry’s lips find new spots Scorpius didn’t even know could make him want to come in his pants – like the bit just below the collar of his shirt and the ticklish spot behind his left ear. Under Harry’s lips, teeth and tongue, his body becomes something altogether different. His magic seems to enjoy the feel of Harry’s, humming and crackling contentedly through his veins and Harry’s kisses burn his lips and send fire through his limbs. He dimly wonders if this is how it feels to be a phoenix – rising from the ashes of lacklustre kisses and horrible sex. Discovering a whole new kind of pleasure.

“Take me upstairs,” Scorpius says. He wants to be stretched out and naked, the heat of Harry’s skin against his own. “Will you?”

“Yeah.” Harry pulls back from the kiss, his eyes dark with arousal and his cheeks flushed. “Come on, then.”

Scorpius leads the way, kicking the door closed behind them when they finally get into Harry’s room and letting himself be pushed against it. The kisses begin again – so achingly good they make Scorpius louder than he thinks he’s ever been and he’s never been more pleased Lily’s off on a gap year, Albus is out at his mum’s and James is off playing Quidditch for England. Scorpius wants to shout his desire from the rooftops, letting waves of pleasure crash over him as Harry strips his clothes from his body with efficient speed. 

“So good, so good.” Scorpius is aware he’s probably babbling, but he can’t help himself with Harry crowding him against the door and exposing every inch of Scorpius to further exploration from his talented hands. He lets Harry move them towards the bed, stretching out and watching Harry strip out of his clothes until they’re both naked on the sheets.

“Be sure,” Harry says. His hand slides down Scorpius’ back to squeeze his backside. “Tell me you’re sure.”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” Scorpius says. He pulls Harry into a fierce kiss. The wiry hair on Harry’s chest rubs against his skin and the hard line of Harry’s cock presses into his thigh. He’s hung, and it makes Scorpius’ breath catch in his throat. “Fuck.”

“We can take it slow if you want.” Harry presses his lips to Scorpius’ neck, bucking into his hand. “No rush.”

“There damn well is.” Scorpius laughs around a groan of pleasure. “I want this inside me.”

“Okay.” Harry laughs and rolls Scorpius onto his back, settling over him and kissing him firmly. They kiss like that for a long time, a sweaty tangle of limbs. Their kisses become more forceful and Scorpius almost can’t breathe he’s so turned on by every stroke of Harry’s fingers against his body. He runs the tips of his fingers through the grey flecks in Harry’s hair and runs his thumb over the strong line of Harry’s jaw, memorising the way the rough stubble feels against his skin. 

When Scorpius thinks he’s close to bursting, Harry wraps a slick hand around Scorpius’ cock. When did Harry do that? Scorpius feels like he should have noticed the pulse of magic that left Harry’s palm covered with lube, but it’s a bit difficult to notice anything other than the slick slide of Harry’s hand, bringing Scorpius to the edge of pleasure. “I can’t…too much.”

“Can you come more than once tonight?” Harry’s hand squeezes around Scorpius and his _voice_. It’s so throaty and confident, so firm and yet tender all at the same time. It makes Scorpius moan and he nods, not sure he can respond with words. Harry seems to understand, and he uses his hand with quick tugs and light twists, thumbing over the head of Scorpius’ cock and then sliding around him at exactly the right pace. It brings Scorpius to a sudden climax which leaves his legs shaky and he’s glad he’s lying down, the whisper of Harry’s name falling from his lips as his orgasm ebbs away from him.

“Beautiful.” Harry sounds stunned, his lips hot against Scorpius’ chest. 

“Don’t stop.” Scorpius spreads his legs and tugs Harry over him, pressing their bodies together. They're slick with lube, sticky with come and sweat and it’s never felt more perfect to be covered. He already knows it’s going to be good with Harry. He can tell by the way Harry seems to understand every response Scorpius makes, in a way nobody else has ever managed before. It makes Scorpius feel raw and vulnerable, as if Harry can read him from the inside out. He’s been naked with plenty of people before, but this is the first time he’s felt truly exposed. It’s also the first time he’s refused to overthink things, letting the thoughts in his mind disappear in the wash of pleasure. With Harry he trusts enough to focus on sensation and the sparks ignited by the right touch or the rough cadence of his name on Harry’s tongue. He’s alive to every pulse and twitch of his body, every skim of Harry’s tongue and fingers over his skin and every slick, sexy sound their bodies make as they grind and move together. The sheets rustle beneath them and Harry lifts Scorpius's legs over his lap in a way which makes Scorpius tremble.

“Like that, darling.” Harry’s voice is soft, warm and encouraging. “Is this okay?”

“Please.” It’s all Scorpius can manage, the fact his most intimate parts are fully exposed to Harry making him flush hot all over. When Harry shifts lower on the bed and his tongue seeks out Scorpius' entrance, he’s almost embarrassed by the sound which leaves his parted lips. He clutches at the sheet, his legs awkwardly dangling and yet there’s nothing awkward about it. Harry seems to get his own pleasure from tonguing at Scorpius, from spreading him open and working his tongue inside his sensitive hole. Scorpius has never, ever been rimmed. He’s seen plenty of moving pictures in magazines and imagined it happening to him, but the reality of having Harry’s tongue stroke, push and slide over him is both just what he hoped for and like nothing he ever could have imagined even in his most feverish moments. 

Harry pulls back after a while, pulling Scorpius towards him so his legs are around Harry’s waist. He murmurs another spell which leaves his fingers slick and he rubs them along the crease between Scorpius’ buttocks. He rubs his fingers over Scorpius, now damp and relaxed from the attentions of Harry’s tongue. “Scorpius?”

“Yes.” Scorpius knows what Harry’s asking. He wants to know it’s okay. He wants to know Scorpius is okay, that it isn’t hurting like it has before. The problem is, Scorpius can’t quite find the words. The pleasure which runs though his body collides with the ache of desire balled in his chest and the way he needs Harry. The words and thoughts he’s not ready to say clamour for attention inside his busy mind. It’s just the beginning. He doesn’t want to spill his every desire into the small room, because once his need for Harry is out there he won’t ever be able to claw it back. He breathes. In, out. He releases the sheets he’s been clutching in a vice-like grip and melts back onto the pillows. “It’s difficult. To say what I’m thinking.”

“I know.” Harry sounds like he does know, at least a little bit. “Just relax. Can you do that?”

“I think so.” Scorpius lets the tension slide from his body and focuses on the press and rub of Harry’s fingers. “I want this so much.”

“Me too,” Harry sounds almost surprised. He strokes his free hand over Scorpius’ thigh and never lets his gaze falter from Scorpius’ face. “You’re bloody gorgeous. So lovely.”

“You too. I think you are too.” Scorpius gulps out his words. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so small in bed before. So completely torn apart in the best of ways. He moans when a slick finger breaches his body. “God…please fuck me.”

“I will,” Harry says. His voice keeps Scorpius tethered as everything gets a bit unreal and hazy. Harry’s fingers work into his body with slow, steady ease. He seems to like this too. When Scorpius allows himself a moment of drinking in Harry, he can tell by the hardness of his cock and the damp tip. He can see it in the way Harry takes in every flex and push from Scorpius, his face mesmerised. “Steady, love. _Steady_.”

The fondness and warmth washes over Scorpius and he almost wants to sob with pleasure when Harry’s fingers make his body spark with an intense pleasure which is overwhelming. He feels safe, even though he’s falling apart. Harry’s voice is just as familiar and kind as it’s ever been, and Scorpius is ready to give Harry the key to his vaults, the key to his heart and to spread himself bare for just another one of Harry’s dizzying kisses.

After a while, Harry slips his fingers from Scorpius and he moans at the loss of them. “Don’t stop.”

“I’m not.” Harry settles over Scorpius, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Do you like being full, darling?” The question is so soft but also gloriously filthy.

“I love it,” Scorpius confesses. He lets Harry arrange Scorpius, so his legs are over Harry’s shoulders. He watches Harry as he slicks his cock and then moves properly over Scorpius, bending him nearly double. He runs his hands over Harry’s shoulders, the dots of perspiration on his skin making Scorpius hum with pleasure. He likes that he can get Harry sweating and hard. He likes that a lot. He gives Harry a smile as Harry pushes the blunt head of his cock against Scorpius. “I want you to fuck me hard. Stretch me open.”

“ _Fuck_.” With a push, Harry slides into Scorpius. It burns, and Scorpius lets out a jagged cry because _no_ he doesn’t want this to feel bad with Harry. Not when it’s all felt so good otherwise. He panics, but then Harry’s fingers against his face pull him back into the moment.

“Okay?” Harry’s eyes are green and bright, his face so familiar. He slides a hand over Scorpius’ leg, keeping him steady and then lowers himself to give Scorpius a slow kiss. The movement pushes Harry deeper into Scorpius and instead of burning pain, the stretch and fullness begins to feel _good_. Scorpius tugs Harry closer, kissing him eagerly even though he’s sure his kisses are more teeth and tongue than anything else.

“I’m okay,” Scorpius says. “Not mother’s china, remember.” His laugh turns into a gasp, when Harry pushes into him again, deep and confident. Harry seems to know just how to get Scorpius into the most comfortable position and how to target that spot inside of him which increases the intensity of his pleasure until his arousal burns through his veins and he can’t think about anything other than the sensation of being fucked and pressed into the sheets. Harry’s body over him is a warm, solid presence and he can look at Harry’s face and drown. It’s peculiar, seeing Harry lost in pleasure. The way he grunts and thrusts into Scorpius is desperately good – there’s something so animalistic and primal about it. Scorpius clutches onto Harry, losing himself in the motions of fucking and being fucked. He makes sure he keeps his eyes open because he wants to register every moment of Harry’s pleasure and see his face as he climaxes.

“Touch yourself,” Harry says. His voice is rough and broken apart.

Scorpius slides a hand to his cock, giving himself the most pleasure. A murmured spell sends a shiver of pleasure through Scorpius, and his finds his hand slick from Harry’s magic. It sends his desire into overdrive, the taste of Harry’s sweat, kisses and magic on his tongue. He moves his hand more quickly and when Harry begins to fuck him in earnest, Scorpius arches up and comes with a shout. He slides his hand over his cock slowly to capture every last moment of his orgasm, letting Harry fuck him until his face contorts with pleasure and he comes inside Scorpius’ body. They take a moment to stare at one another, before Harry slides Scorpius’ legs down and onto the sheets. He slips from Scorpius’ body and Scorpius almost wants to be full again, a hunger for it taking him by surprise. He wriggles into the sheets, a sigh leaving his lips.

“I could do that all over again.”

“I might need a minute.” Harry sounds amused, and he settles behind Scorpius, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Better than those other times?”

“Much.” Scorpius feels a bit embarrassed, but he has a sense that Harry won’t mind him being honest, even if it does send a white-hot flush through his skin. “I feel…empty…” he murmurs. He feels Harry’s kisses still on his neck and wonders if he’s said the wrong thing.

“Well.” Harry’s voice is rough and low. “We can’t have that, can we?” Scorpius shivers as Harry rubs his fingers over Scorpius’ backside. 

“Harry…” Scorpius isn’t even sure what he’s asking for, but Harry seems to know. 

“So good, darling.” Harry’s voice is thick with emotion. “Do you like this?” It transpires the _this_ is Harry sliding two fingers inside Scorpius and the only response Scorpius can find is _nngh_ , which he hopes Harry will take to mean that yes, he does like it. Very much indeed.

There’s something so filthy about being finger fucked after sex. It makes desperation crawl across Scorpius’ skin, but it’s a good kind of desperation. A warm desire curls inside him, a need to spread himself out and let Harry take him apart. It’s sensitive, but just on the right side of sensitive. Harry seems to enjoy giving Scorpius his fingers just as much as Scorpius likes receiving them. He knows with absolute certainty he’s never going to be able to look at Harry doing anything with his hands in the same way again.

“Best,” Scorpius says. His voice is thick and his body loose and pliant for Harry, fully relaxed in a way he’s never been before. He thinks he would let Harry reach inside his body and stroke his beating heart if such a thing were possible. The strange, languid sensation of being thoroughly shagged and the relentless drum of his heart make Scorpius squirm back onto Harry’s insistent fingers as his sated cock twitches with optimistic enthusiasm. “Best ever.”

“Good.” Harry keeps Scorpius close, their warm bodies pressed together. He slides his fingers from Scorpius which elicits an embarrassing whimper, and he chuckles with his lips pressed against the nape of Scorpius’ neck. “More lube.”

“Oh.” Scorpius would almost be embarrassed by the whine that leaves him, when Harry slides freshly lubed fingers back inside Scorpius with ease. Harry doesn’t make him feel embarrassed, though. He makes Scorpius feel indestructible.

Scorpius promises himself that he’ll let Harry know that one day.

He closes his eyes and loses himself in pleasure all over again.

*

“You need to try to feel it through your fingers, as if you’re holding a wand.” Harry wraps his arms around Scorpius, sliding his fingers along Scorpius’ arm and extending it, holding his wrist lightly. Scorpius can feel the heat of Harry’s skin through his t-shirt and the slide of his fingers on Scorpius’ skin makes him half-hard. He wriggles his backside against Harry’s crotch.

“Like this?”

“Not quite.” Harry bites down gently on an exposed piece of Scorpius’ neck. “Although it depends what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m trying to get you hard, so I can suck you off in the kitchen,” Scorpius says.

“Ah.” Harry pulls Scorpius back against him. “In that case, you’re doing very well.”

“Dad?” The Floo _whooshes_ and Harry clears his throat, releasing Scorpius slowly. He looks nervous, but Scorpius is relieved to see he doesn’t panic and start demanding Scorpius make it look as if they haven’t just been fucking in Harry’s bed. It’s a bit late, anyway. Scorpius is wearing an old t-shirt of Harry’s with a Muggle band on the front. It’s one of his favourites. Thin and distressed looking, smelling like clean laundry and carrying the faint scent of Harry’s cologne. He’s hoping he can get away with stealing it, so he can wear it all the time. Scorpius glances at Harry, who looks rumpled and shagged out. There’s a mark on his neck – _mine_ – Scorpius thinks proudly. His shirt is open and rolled up at the sleeves, his loose pyjama bottoms grazing over his bare feet. Scorpius tries not to stare too much. Harry’s mouth-wateringly handsome in the morning, his hand wrapped around his mug of coffee. It makes Scorpius think of the things Harry’s fingers did to him the night before and he wants to be back in bed again, an aching rush of desire pulsing through him.

“In the kitchen, Al.” Harry glances at Scorpius and shrugs as if to say _well, here we go then_.

“I don’t want you to think I hate my new half-sister, but does she have to cry all the time?” Albus drops his overnight back on the kitchen floor and pushes a hand through his hair. “I’m not staying there again until Emma’s learned that small people shouldn’t have the lung capacity to cry from three in the morning until the sun comes up. It’s not right. I was going to come back but I know you had a—” Albus trails off, finally noticing Scorpius. His mouth opens, and he gives his dad a look. “ _Scorpius_ was this bloke you were going for dinner with? You might have bloody well told me.”

“It was actually someone else.” Harry clears his throat.

“Putting it around a bit, dad.” Albus rolls his eyes. He gives Scorpius a wink, and Scorpius relaxes knowing in a rush of relief that everything’s going to be okay. “Two blokes in one night seems excessive.”

Harry winces. “It wasn’t like that, I promise—”

“Leave him alone, Al.” Scorpius decides to rescue Harry from his clear discomfort. “Stop winding him up.”

“Okay.” Albus shrugs and he makes himself a coffee. “How the fuck did this happen, then?”

“I came over looking for you,” Scorpius says. “David finished with me, and I wanted to get drunk.”

“Looks like you found someone else for that.” Albus grins around his mug. “You must have had a lot of Ogden’s to get my dad to shag you. We’ve been through a whole bottle before and you haven’t managed to convince me, yet.”

“That’s probably because I have no interest in trying to convince you.” Scorpius glares at Albus. “We didn’t have that much.”

“Well, I’m glad.” Albus puts his coffee down and gives his dad a quick hug. “David was annoying. At least this way, you’ll be around more.” He looks gleeful. “Can I be there when you tell James?”

Harry glances at Scorpius, his cheeks red. “Hold on, I don’t think Scorpius wants—”

“He does.” Scorpius looks at Harry, meeting his questioning gaze. “I do, I mean. If you want to tell people.”

“I…” Harry pauses and Scorpius’ heart drops, his stomach rolling. _Please_ , he thinks. Please let something work out right for once. “Yes.” His voice is rough, and it reminds Scorpius of the way Harry spoke to him last night _just like that, darling_. He bites his lip and is starting to regret the loose trousers he borrowed from Harry. He turns around to will his growing erection away before Albus can take the piss, unable to stop a daft smile from spreading across his face. He’s so gone for Harry. He’s been fucked by Harry. Held down on the bed, licked _everywhere_ …

Scorpius takes a breath. “Al?”

“Yeah.” Albus sounds like he’s eating toast.

“Do you remember when you had that thing with Lizzie Trockton and I had to walk around the Quidditch pitch a gazillion times, even though it was snowing, because I wasn’t allowed to come back to our room for an hour?”

“Got it,” Albus says, cheerfully. “Lock the door, use a Silencing Charm. I’m going for a nap.”

The kitchen door closes, and Scorpius turns to face Harry who looks a little shell-shocked. He doesn’t want Harry to think he’s going to be booting his kids out of rooms in their own house, it’s just a one off. It’s just the morning after their first night and Scorpius can still taste Harry on his tongue. He wants to taste him again, over and over. He wants to drink in his fill and never come up for air. 

“That went okay,” Scorpius says. He moves into the circle of Harry’s arms and presses a kiss to his hot cheek. “Didn’t it?”

“Better than expected.” Harry’s hands find their way to Scorpius’ backside and he squeezes. “You sent Albus off for a nap. Something on your mind?”

Scorpius groans, dizzy with the scent and feel of Harry around him. “I won’t do that again. It’s just…difficult this morning.”

“What’s difficult?” Harry brushes his lips to Scorpius’ neck, his voice muffled against Scorpius’ skin.

“It’s _hard_ ,” Scorpius says around a laugh.

Harry pushes his hand beneath the waistband of Scorpius’ loose pyjamas. His voice is low and impossibly sexy. “It _is_.”

“God.” Scorpius can’t manage anything more eloquent, pushing into Harry’s fist. “I want you to do all kinds of filthy things to me. I want to do them to you, too. It’s _debauched_.”

“Isn’t it, just?” Harry doesn’t sound like he minds, pushing Scorpius’ trousers down and sliding to his knees. “I think I’m going to suck you then bend you over that table and fuck you if you’re not too sore.”

“A good sore.” Scorpius clutches onto the kitchen counter. “You should do that. All of it. I can’t believe I used to think you were porridge.”

“What?” Harry sits back on his heels, eyebrow arched as he looks up at Scorpius. 

“Porridge.” Scorpius shouldn’t have said that out loud. “I didn’t let myself think about you like this for a long time. I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable.”

“Porridge.” Harry pulls a face. “Bland, boring and not at all exciting.”

“I’m sorry.” Fear clutches at Scorpius’ heart and he moves his fingers into Harry’s hair, playing with it. “I don’t think that now. I promise.”

Harry lets out a soft laugh and he shakes his head. “I don’t mind. I prefer that to you thinking I’m going to be some sort of hero all the time. My life really isn’t the fancy Ministry events and photoshoots some people seem to think it is.”

“I know,” Scorpius says. He really does. He also knows that even making coffee in the morning with Harry is more exciting than any of his semi-public blow jobs during nights out have been. Harry makes his skin tingle, makes his body come alive in ways he didn’t even know were possible before last night. It’s the very opposite of boring. “But I don’t think you’re exactly vanilla.”

Harry’s eyes darken, and he slides his hands around Scorpius’ wrists, pulling them behind his back and holding them in place with one hand. “No. Not exactly. I have some things I like if you’re ever in the mood for trying something different. Does that bother you?”

The pulse of arousal that Scorpius is starting to think of as _Harry’s_ moves through his veins. His mind flashes with images of being bound, teased and tongued by Harry until his body trembles with the need for release. He shakes his head, his breath uneven. “I don't mind. Will you tie me up?”

“Hmm, probably.” Harry squeezes his hand around Scorpius’ wrists and uses his other hand to fondle Scorpius’ balls, rolling them in his hand. “How do you feel about spanking?”

“ _Good_ ,” Scorpius breathes. He bucks towards Harry, but finds himself held in place by a whisper of magic which curls around his wrists and holds him in place. It’s enough to make his cock twitch in response and he groans, dropping his head back. “ _Harry_.”

“Ask nicely.” Harry slides his hands over Scorpius’ thighs, his thumbs pressing into the skin. He brushes his lips against the line of Scorpius’ cock, fleeting and too light to create any meaningful friction. With another whispered spell, Harry’s slick fingers find Scorpius’ entrance and he pushes two inside Scorpius’ eager body. 

“ _F-fuck_.” Scorpius is suffused with pleasure, his heart thrumming in his chest. “Please, Harry.”

That seems to constitute _asking nicely_ , because Harry takes Scorpius into the back of his throat and it’s a very long time before Scorpius is capable of thinking anything coherent at all.

_~Fin~_


End file.
